Page 71 of Snitches and Serpents

“You,” I blurt out.

The blond man in front of me grimaces apologetically. It’s one of Tristan’s friends. I think his name is Paul.

“Sorry,” he says again. “I was just about to tap you on the shoulder but then you turned around so quickly.” He takes my now half empty cup and puts it back on the table, all the way at the edge where no one will reach for it. “Listen, I saw what Tristan did back there and I just wanted to apologize.” While holding my gaze, he picks up another cup from the front of the table and hands it to me. “He can be a real asshole.”

I let out a bitter laugh as I take the offered cup. “You think?”

“I mean, I do share a house with the guy, so yeah… I know.” He draws a hand through his messy blond hair and shrugs. “Just try to ignore him and have fun.” Then he glances over his shoulder towards Tristan. “I should probably go before he sees me talking to you.” He looks back at me while he nods and starts to retreat. “Anyway, sorry about his asshole-ness. And about the drink.”

Despite myself, I smile. Lifting the cup in a cheers, I watch him go. Maybe not everyone in the White Serpents is a complete and total bastard.

Straightening my spine, I draw in a deep breath to center myself again. I didn’t come here to flirt with Tristan anyway. I came to watch him. To report his movements to John. To nail his damn balls to the wall before he does something else to get me expelled.

With my focus once more back where it should be, I move away from the table while I take a drink from my cup. It tastes surprisingly good. Whoever mixed them must certainly know what they’re doing.

I walk until I reach a spot where I’m not in the way and where I will be able to discreetly watch Tristan. He’s still talking to that group of girls, who laugh at something he said. The two blonde ones on his left rake their eyes up and down his body when he focuses on the two women on his right. Desire burns in their eyes.

My fingers tighten around the cup. The cheap plastic creaks in alarm.

Blinking in surprise, I snap out of the sudden burst of highly irrational anger. Why should I care about how other women look at him?

I let out an annoyed huff and down half of my drink in one go. I don’t even know what’s happening to me. Tristan has just turned everything upside down. I don’t know who I am anymore.

On the one side, I’m still the perfect mayor’s daughter. The political science student who actually wants to go into politics and make the world a better place. But at the same time, I have also started to become someone who curses and throws dead rats at people and who gets angry when someone else is eyeing up the guy who bullies me. And someone who enjoys being pushed up against a wall and fucked hard with a dominant hand around my throat.

And I don’t know which version I am anymore.

Which of the two is the real me?

I don’t know.

Blowing out a long sigh, I shake my head and then finish the rest of my drink. I should probably slow down, but my emotions are so tangled up that I don’t know what to do with myself.

After setting down the now empty cup, I go back to my previous spot to continue watching Tristan.

Surprise shoots through me when I realize that he’s no longer there.

Whipping my head from side to side, I search frantically for him.

My vision swims when I move my head.

I frown.

Then I give my head a short shake. Jesus, I probably shouldn’t have drunk that cup of alcohol so fast.

While still searching for Tristan, I start moving through the crowd.

The room sways around me with every step. I press a hand to my temple. My head feels foggy. And my muscles suddenly feel weak. I blink, trying hard to concentrate. But it’s getting increasingly difficult.

How on earth could I have gotten this drunk from just one glass? Sure, I’m kind of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. But this is ridiculous.

Abandoning my efforts to find Tristan, I instead set course for the door. I need some fresh air to clear my head.

It takes me three tries to get the door open. My hands fumble and everything sways around me.

I stumble out onto the porch.

Bracing a hand on the wall, I try desperately to support myself but my legs can barely carry my weight anymore. I blink repeatedly. My head spins. Oh God, I need to?—

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